


Taken

by Asthenos, Twilight Fang (Asthenos)



Category: A Nightmare on Elm Street (Movies 1984-1994), Dead by Daylight (Video Game), Friday the 13th Series (Movies), Halloween Movies - All Media Types
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff and Crack, Jason does not speak, M/M, Mute Michael, Profanity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:28:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28830411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asthenos/pseuds/Asthenos, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asthenos/pseuds/Twilight%20Fang
Summary: Where do the slashers go to relax when they’re not out slashing? Jason knows of the perfect place to unwind, as well as the perfect distraction to occupy himself with.
Relationships: Michael Myers/Jason Voorhees
Comments: 10
Kudos: 59





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I needed an outlet to get over a traumatic ordeal - this fic happened to be it.

There were very few places where a serial killer could hang out, especially one as notorious as Jason Voorhees. He never needed to identify himself because his chipped and discolored hockey mask always did that for him. But most people only required a glimpse of Jason’s hulking muscular form, his muddy clothes covered in blood, to realize the peril they were in.

 _“Oh, there’s Jason Voorhees_!” Some would joke before Jason showed them that the Camp Crystal Lake killer was no laughing matter.

Or others would scream in horror, “ _It’s that psycho with the hockey mask_!”, right before Jason used his choice collection of sharp objects to silence their offensive chatter forevermore.

So when _Slasher’s Delight_ opened up in the heart of Crystal Lake itself, needless to say, Jason was thrilled.

Slasher’s Delight was an exclusive coffee shop that catered to social deviants like Jason. Slapped together like a half-assed shanty on an unexplored patch of land southeast of Crystal Lake, the unorthodox establishment welcomed all sorts of riff-raff. In fact, those were the only sort of customers that were allowed inside. The coffee shop was run by a shrewd man who had seen a niche market for violent criminals requiring a shot of caffeine in the middle of the night. Or the occasional cinnamon roll when one was feeling homesick. The owner himself was one of the country’s most wanted serial killers, so he understood the unique needs of his fellow offenders. He also knew how to keep his business free of unwanted visitors, which meant that his customers’ privacy was always well protected. What more could a slasher ask for?

It was already well past dinner time when Jason yanked open the flimsy door of Slasher’s Delight. Eager to escape the cloud of mosquitoes that were buzzing around him, he stomped inside and slammed the screen door shut behind him.

“Aw, for fuck’s sake! Can you wipe your boots off _outside_? I don’t know why people think you’re the perfect momma’s boy because you’re dumb as fuck!” The owner scowled at Jason from behind the counter. However, seeing as how the old man’s usual expression was a perpetual scowl, Jason didn’t take any offence to it. Freddy Kreuger always seemed to be on the verge of getting into a confrontation. He insulted his customers, verbally abused his staff, and had the tendency to start throwing empty beer bottles when he’d had one too many. If Jason hadn’t felt sorry for the hideous burn victim, he would’ve stomped on the nasty man’s head a long time ago.

As soon as Freddy’s attention was back on the customer at the counter, Jason took a good look around. Normal people probably just let their eyes dart from one place to the next, but Jason turned his whole head slowly to the right and then jerked it back to the left. His peripheral vision wasn’t very good when he was wearing his hockey mask, which he only took off to sleep. That’s why he was known for stopping in the middle of an attack and abruptly turning his head to either side to locate his prey. As fond as he was of his faithful hockey mask, sometimes it made him feel like a horse wearing blinders.

There weren’t any other customers tonight aside from the short man in front of Jason. That meant that Jason could sit wherever he liked. Not that there were many seats to choose from. Freddy was a total cheapskate when it came to decorating his coffee shop. He thought empty liquor bottles were great for ornamental purposes as the shelves along the walls were filled with them. How long had it taken Freddy to finish that many bottles? The seats were nothing but empty crates, and the tables were made of rotting pieces of wood that Freddy had probably gotten from illegally dismantling a nearby resident’s private dock. Where Freddy had gotten the bar itself and all the machinery to go with it was anyone’s guess. But Jason doubted that a man like Freddy had just called up a Starbucks and asked to rent one of their espresso machines.

“Is Michael working tonight?”

Jason’s head snapped front and center again at the mention of that name. His eyes raked over the area behind the snack counter in search of the real reason why he frequented Freddy’s establishment. It wasn’t for the strong coffee or the pleasantly bitter tea, and it wasn’t for the chocolate brownies or the banana muffins - as delicious as they were. No, Jason walked all the way to Slasher’s Delight every night, night after night, without ever missing a day, in order to stalk and admire the lovely Michael Myers.

“Why? You got the hots for Myers or something, Danny?” Freddy snickered.

 _You’d better not_ , Jason thought to himself as his hands clenched into fists at his sides. While he had yet to make a move on Michael, Jason already considered the cute young barista to be his. He had seen him first and staked a claim on him. It didn’t matter that no words or vows had been exchanged aloud. And it didn’t matter that Michael himself was not aware of his future master. What mattered was that Jason wanted him and was not going to let some scrawny boy band worshipper like Danny Johnson take what was rightfully his.

“Shhh! Not so loud.” Danny’s long black hooded robe rustled nervously as he waved his arms to get Freddy to shut up. “I just really like his cream buns. Is he here tonight? Do you think he can... oh, I don’t know...” Danny twirled his two index fingers together in a mock gesture of innocence. “Can he maybe sign one for me?”

Sign a cream bun? Was this guy for real? Jason may have had zero experience when it came to dating but he was pretty sure that he was nowhere near as creepy as Ghostface.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure you’d like to get your hands on his cream buns,” Freddy laughed harshly, his gravelly voice nearly grinding to a halt on the word ‘buns’. He sounded like a man who had gone through several decades chomping on cigarettes, but whether he was an actual smoker or his throat was charred from being burnt alive was anyone’s guess. “Hey, Myers! Ghostface here wants to stick his fingers in your cream buns!” He shouted towards the back where the kitchen was situated.

“ _No no no_!” Danny began to freak out, which in turn made Jason want to punch him even more, until the kitchen door swung open and a slim shape gracefully appeared in the doorway. At that point, Danny shut up and Jason just gawked.

Judging by the ‘Employee of the Year’ award on the far right wall near the freshly made snacks, Michael Myers was the perfect angel. With a pretty face, big blue eyes, long eyelashes, and thick curly brown hair that was just begging to be played with, Michael was the sweet young man that every mother would love for their sons - gay or not - to bring home. If Jason’s mother had still been alive, she would’ve immediately taken to Michael. Because what was not to like? He looked good, he smelled good, and he could make cappuccinos with swirling cat designs. Anyone who scored Michael would have it made with such a talented partner.

Freddy was quite clever when it came to managing his business. He didn’t seem to mind stooping as low as putting his prized possession on display like a pimp advertising his best selling whore. He knew the attention that Michael attracted and was not afraid to capitalize on it. That was why Michael had undoubtedly been forced to pose for that picture unmasked. Although there were a few other pictures of Freddy’s previous hired help, none of the young men or women were anywhere near as beautiful as Michael. Perhaps that was why Freddy had crossed them out with a big red X. No, that was not it. Freddy was just pointing out that they were no longer employed with him. How could they be when they were all dead? Anyone who disappointed or crossed Freddy ended up that way. Everyone knew who was buried out back and why.

Jason watched Michael pick up a pair of tongs to gingerly capture one of those cream buns off of the tray in the display case. He did so in a calm and patient manner, which indicated that he was clueless about the sexual innuendo involving those fluffy treats. This Michael was very different from the one in the picture. Aside from Michael hands, which were a bit delicate for a serial killer’s, no other part of his body was exposed. He was covered from neck to ankle in a pair of dark grey coveralls, his feet were laced up in a pair of olive Vietnam jungle boots, and an expressionless white mask concealed his face. The straw-like hair that was groomed neatly back and away from his face was part of the mask as well. There was not one lock of curly brown hair to be seen with that mask covering everything. Even Michael’s eyes were not visible from a distance due to the lack of lighting. One would have to direct light straight at him in order to see his eyes within those dark eye sockets that had been cut out of the mask. Jason didn’t know which Michael he liked best. The pretty angelic Michael, or the creepy little doll that mechanically served him his coffee every night.

“Can you sign it?” Danny excitedly asked as Michael was lowering the bun onto a plate. “If it’s too much trouble, you can just sign M M. Or M Myers. Or... whatever you—.”

Showing what looked like annoyance for the first time since Jason had first encountered him, Michael clumsily dropped the bun onto the plate - upside down. Then, without so much as a word of apology, he thrust the plate in Danny’s direction.

“Oh... but... it’s upside down,” Danny protested.

“Serves you right, you fucking perv,” Freddy chuckled. “Wanting to stick your finger where it doesn’t belong.”

“But I didn’t say that,” Danny whined.

Enough was enough. Jason wanted his coffee and his thirty seconds with Michael. Danny could go and screw his bun over at his table for all Jason cared.

Stomping forward in line, Jason deliberately shouldered Danny out of the way. He was not at all sorry for knocking the wimpy slasher halfway across the room with his unbridled strength.Now he no longer had to worry about the competition. Not that Danny could possibly hope to be man enough for a catch like Michael.

“What’ll it be, momma’s boy?” Freddy asked in his usual condescending tone. “You want a bun, too? Vanilla is about all you can handle, right?” He chuckled rudely to himself while clicking the claws of his right hand on the countertop.

Had Pamela Voorhees still been alive, she probably would have ordered on behalf of Jason. And she most definitely would have chosen vanilla. But she wasn’t around anymore - God bless her overprotective motherly soul - so Jason was free to choose whatever the hell he wanted. And today he wanted to be different. He wanted to be bold and daring. He would show Michael the warrior he was by ordering the roast beef sub - extra rare - along with a plate of extra large fries, a chocolate lava cake, and a triple espresso.

“Well fuck me, momma’s boy. You’ve got some balls after all.” Freddy gave Jason a sideways glance as he rang up everything that Jason had pointed to.

Feeling awfully proud of himself, Jason looked past Freddy... to see that Michael was nowhere in sight. Where had he gone? He wasn’t on break, was he?

“Don’t forget, we don’t provide medical aid here,” Freddy warned after he had passed Jason his tray. “If you have a heart attack or choke on something, that’s your problem. Now go fuck off to your table.”

Automatically regretting everything that he had ordered, Jason sulked off to the table in the corner by the restroom. What a horrible spot to put a table! Unfortunately, that prick Danny had already chosen the table by the window on the opposite side of the shop. That just figured. If forced to choose between sitting at the table next to Danny or staring at the restroom door, Jason would unfailingly put up with the distasteful location every time.

 _I wanted macaroni and cheese_. Jason slumped forward in his hard seat and hatefully glared at his mismatched dinner. Who ordered a triple espresso with a roast beef sub? And what good was a chocolate lava cake without the vanilla ice cream? It was Freddy’s fault for turning the word ‘vanilla’ into a code word for ‘virgin’. Maybe Jason could go back and order something else in a few minutes. That would give him another opportunity to admire Michael. But wait! Where was his change? That old bastard hadn’t given him his change!

Now on the verge of erupting like a furious volcano, Jason whipped his head in the direction of the front counter... and froze. Freddy was still there, but so was Michael. Freddy was passing Michael a full tray containing what looked like a dish of macaroni and cheese, a bowl of steamed vegetables, and a slice of pecan pie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream - Jason’s regular order on a Saturday night. And, instead of a cup of coffee, there was a tall glass of iced lemon tea with two straws sticking out of it. Who had ordered all that?

“Here y’go, _bitch_ ,” Freddy cackled loudly as Michael took hold of the tray. “Momma’s boy over there insisted on buying you dinner. You can have a half hour off to sit with him, but don’t you dare give him any freebies! If he wants something extra, you charge him for it, y’hear?”

If Jason hadn’t already been dead, he would’ve died of embarrassment at that moment. Appreciating Michael from a distance had been exciting and fun. But he hadn’t had any real intention of approaching Michael and asking him out on a date. And he never would have done anything so crude as to proposition his fellow slasher. Having Freddy implying that Jason wanted to fondle Michael under the table was bad enough. But telling Michael to charge him for it was just plain sinister. Michael was _not_ that type of person. Or at least Jason didn’t think he was. To him, Michael was sweet and innocent. Michael would never—.

 _Oh no!_ Jason literally stopped breathing when the spooky creature that was Michael appeared out of nowhere beside his table. Michael looked at the empty crate that was crammed up against the wall beside Jason, tilted his head in question, and then just stood there looking uncomfortable.

Jason immediately jumped up and out of his seat like someone had dropped hot coals down his pants. Without thinking, he shoved his crate aside, hastily brushed off the one that Michael was eyeing, and gestured for his dinner date to sit down. Screw Freddy for putting him on the spot like this! Jason didn’t know the first thing about dating. He was so nervous he would probably end up spilling his hot espresso all over Michael. Then the night would end with him being stabbed to death by the moody little Haddonfield killer... which wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Jason had been pining over Michael for months now. Any contact, even if it was permanently scarring and excruciatingly painful, would be more than welcome.

Breezing past Jason with all the grace he was known for, Michael placed his tray down on the table and sat down on the crate. A second later, Jason flopped down on his own crate, dragged it right up against Michael’s, and stared at him. How could he not? He might not ever get a second chance to be this close to Michael.

They sat that way for a few minutes, with Michael contemplatively gazing up at Jason, and Jason staring so hard at his new companion that he may as well have been visually undressing him. Jason loved everything about Michael, especially how clean and eerily white he was. The mask was not much whiter than those delicate hands. Both were beautiful to Jason. And the body inside those drab coveralls was seductively slender and slinky like a wild cat’s. Was Michael even aware of the power he had over others? Apparently not. Because Michael was leaning far too close to Jason, which was in turn driving Jason mad with desire. No wonder the Halloween killer was considered to be such a danger to society. Jason could envision himself creating a bloodbath on the spot just to impress his love interest.

 _Don’t touch. Don’t touch. Better not touch._ Jason repeated the mantra in his head, wary of doing anything that might break the spell and turn Michael into a hissing Abyssinian that had just gotten its tail stepped on. Sadly for Jason, he had stopped following the rules and minding his manners after his mother was hacked out of his life. So it shouldn’t have come as much of a shock to him when he found one of his hands on the back of Michael’s neck. That’s where he would have petted a cat... had Michael been a cat. But he wasn’t. He was a lethal knife expert who was narrowing his eyes at Jason’s outstretched arm in disbelief. _Too late. Already touching._ Might as well just keep on touching and risk getting his palm impaled on Michael’s hidden kitchen knife. Besides, Jason already had two of his fingers wedged inside the back of Michael’s mask. That’s where he knew the thick curly brown hair was. And, sure enough, he managed to grasp a few locks of it between his fingers before Michael pulled away and backed against the wall. Predictably, out came the knife and a hand positioned to choke.

To try and calm his dinner date, Jason picked the fork up off the tray, speared a mouthful of macaroni and cheese with it, and held it up as a peace offering. Macaroni and cheese was a great comfort food. Jason’s mother had made it quite often, partially because it was one of Jason’s favorite meals, but also because she was usually too busy to make anything else. Michael must like it as well, otherwise why would Freddy have given it to him? Freddy screwed up Jason’s order every other day, so it wasn’t like he remembered what Jason liked to eat - aside from the vanilla ice cream. But Michael worked alongside Freddy five days a week. Freddy had to know what Michael liked to eat.

For a moment, Michael split his attention between Jason’s throat and the macaroni and cheese. Then, very slowly, the knife was lowered onto the table. So Michael was hungry after all.

 _One forkful for me._ Jason shocked Michael by nudging aside his mask on an angle, just far enough to reveal his mouth, and gulped down the macaroni. It was delicious, as always. Which meant that Michael was the one who had made it. _One forkful for my vicious cat._ Not thinking of the risk he was taking, Jason grabbed hold of the bottom of Michael’s mask. Moving quickly, he rolled it up until he covered the young man’s soft pink lips. Then he went in with a new forkful of macaroni, forcing Michael to open his mouth for it lest it end up somewhere less welcome.

Jason was met with a pair of startled blue eyes when Michael looked at him in utter confusion. Dating seemed to be as big of a mystery to Michael as it was to Jason.

 _No stabbing_ , Jason gestured as he blocked the knife that Michael raised for a second time. Instead, he offered Michael another forkful of pasta, which his companion accepted after a twinge of hesitation. They continued to take turns eating the pasta, with Michael becoming more relaxed with every bite. When it came to the iced tea, Jason happily slurped at his straw while Michael silently grasped the other one and took small sips of the cold beverage.

He was doing it. He was _really_ doing it! Jason was having a pleasant date with Michael Myers! They were doing everything that a real couple would do, including sharing food and staring dreamily into each other’s eyes. At least Jason hoped that his asymmetrical eyes looked dreamy and not piercingly psychotic, as some claimed they had a tendency to look.

By the time they got to the pie, Michael was quite a bit closer to Jason, and his attention was no longer on his knife. Wanting to lure him even closer, Jason bravely wrapped an arm around that slender body and closed the gap between them. This time, there was no threat of stabbing or choking. Michael simply pressed up against Jason and sighed. From there, Jason went back to feeding his date mouthfuls of the pecan pie with melted ice cream. He wondered why Freddy had given Michael a scoop of vanilla ice cream after having made it sound so unappealing. Freddy wasn’t trying to give Jason a message, was he? Because the only interpretation Jason had for that vanilla ice cream was that Freddy was letting him know that Michael was a virgin. That would be so typical of Freddy, to still be trying to use Michael as a means of manipulating the customers. It was working on Jason. And it seemed to have already screwed up Ghostface’s idol crazy mind.

“Your thirty minutes is almost up, Myers,” Freddy hollered from the cash register. “Why don’t you go ahead and swap email addresses and get your lazy ass back to work!”

Jason didn’t have an email address. He didn’t even have a cell phone. And he had no idea how computers or the Internet worked. How was he supposed to _swap email addresses_ with Michael? And how dare Freddy call Michael lazy! Michael was the one slaving away in the kitchen while Freddy idly lingered around the cash register, harassing anyone within earshot. Why was Michael working for Freddy in the first place? Was he that desperate for money that he was okay with taking Freddy’s abuse five to six hours a night? Jason couldn’t allow his new boyfriend to endure such horrid working conditions any longer. If it was money that Michael was after, Jason could hook him up with a steady supply of it. Jason had a pretty good income during the summer from eradicating intrusive campers. He was forever collecting wallets and emptying the pockets of corpses. Maybe he could pay Michael to model for him, although Jason was not at all into drawing or photography. But it would make a good excuse for ogling the Haddonfield killer naked and unmasked.

 _Come with me_. Jason withdrew a wad of bills from his torn and frayed pocket. He hoped that it would be enough to entice Michael into leaving Freddy’s coffee shop behind. He was sorely disappointed and more than a little frustrated when Michael shook his head. Was that it then? There would be no second date. Michael had just come over to appease his curiosity or to pass the time. Neither Jason nor his money were good enough for someone like Michael.

Jason was practically bristling with anger when Michael reassuringly placed one of those delicate hands on top of his. Jason snatched that hand and squeezed it inside his own mighty paw. He could see Michael looking at him with concern. Michael had most assuredly not come over with an ulterior motive. He was just as interested in Jason as Jason was in him. And he didn’t seem to want the money. It meant nothing to him. Michael was not working at Slasher’s Delight for financial reasons.

 _Nobody else can have you._ Jason possessively squeezed Michael’s hand harder and searched inside that mask with his opposite hand until he found a few locks of hair. Pulling firmly on them, he looked straight into Michael’s eyes. _You’re mine now, aren’t you_?

Blinking once, Michael nodded. He may not have understood exactly what it was that Jason wanted to convey, but he got the gist of it.

“Myers! Kitchen! Now!” Freddy barked out in irritation.

Michael slipped between Jason and the table, intent on getting back to work. Nobody - not even someone as patient and calm as Michael - wanted to become the target of one of Freddy’s profanity-laced attacks. Just as Michael was squeezing by him, Jason dropped one of his large hands onto his date’s backside. He proudly stroked it before Michael could twist away from him in surprise. _Touching is okay._ It was perfectly okay to touch something that belonged to him, and Michael most certainly belonged to him now.

“Hey!” Danny called out in desperation. “If I pay for your dinner next time, will you sit beside me? We don’t have to do anything kinky. Just take some selfies together. Michael? Michael!”

Shoving back his crate, Jason thudded his way over to the far wall near the display case. Not giving any indication of what he was there for, he pulled the framed photo of Michael down from the wall. Under the photo there was text that read:

  * Michael Myers
  * Age: 21
  * Marital status: single
  * Sexual orientation: ambiguous



Taking the pen that was lying on top of the counter, Jason crossed out ‘single’ and replaced it with ‘taken’. Next he scribbled over ‘ambiguous’ and wrote ‘Jason’s property’ in its place.

“What the _fuck_ , you asshole!” Freddy swore. “I thought you were illiterate, you stupid momma’s boy!”

No. Jason was not illiterate. He could read and write perfectly fine. He just lacked the confidence to speak when spoken to. What he didn’t have a problem with was identifying his territory and what he claimed ownership over, Michael Myers included.


	2. Chapter 2

When people asked Freddy why he had decided to open up his own coffee shop, he sarcastically let them know that putting Starbucks out of business had always been his lifelong dream. Since the general population, slashers included, were unbelievably stupid and gullible, Freddy became known as the next Starbucks entrepreneur. _Yahoo! Fucking Starbucks!_ Coffee was for losers. Tea was for wimps. Real men drank bourbon for breakfast, whiskey on the rocks for lunch, and traditional absinthe for dinner. Screw all that tea time crap and all those wannabe hipsters.

“What the hell d’ya want, Myers?” Freddy lifted a bottle of rum to his lips, took a long gulp of it, and then turned to the pest by his side. It seriously pissed him off whenever Michael snuck up on him, which happened just about every day. That kid crept around like a transparent ghost. Nobody heard him and nobody saw him until he was right in their faces. But what really got to Freddy was the fact that Michael’s dreams were impenetrable. Oh, he had tried on numerous occasions to sneak his way into one of Michael’s nightmares, because the Haddonfield killer happened to have a chronic nightmare problem, but the most he’d ended up doing was giving himself a headache. Michael’s mind was like a bank vault with a high tech security system surrounding it. Whenever Freddy got close to penetrating it, Michael unleashed some scary as shit dark power on him. Recovering from one of Michael’s defensive attacks was a million times worse than the most stubborn hangover. And Freddy really didn’t need anymore of those.

 _Clang_!

“What the _fuck_?!” Freddy’s leg slipped from where he was balancing it on his desk, which sent him toppling backwards. His good leather chair struck the floor, which in turn struck him. In the confusion, he let go of his bottle of rum, which rolled away and out of sight, leaking good liquor all over the moldy carpeting. “ _Myers_! You _piece_ of _shit_!” Rubbing the back of his head in irritation, Freddy glared up at the silent figure who was emotionlessly standing by the desk. In the center of the desk was the large bloodied machete that Michael had just stabbed into Freddy’s to-do list. Was Michael threatening him? If so, what was it over? There were too many incidents to choose from, really. A couple of days ago Freddy had ‘ _accidentally_ ’ walked in on Michael in the shower room and gotten a delicious eyeful in the process. And the day after that, Freddy had tricked Michael into attending a Zoom meeting with one of the coffee shop’s regulars. Only, the meeting had been less of a meeting and more of a pay-by-the-minute sex chat. Michael had eventually clued in when the ‘ _client_ ’ asked him to show his panties. Freddy had thought it hilarious that anyone would still have a panties kink in this day and age considering how the Internet had so many more fascinating things to offer. But Michael had not been amused. Had that ever been a rough night! Michael was not the type to confront someone in a fit of anger, so Freddy had paid for his misdeed with a hellish bout of food poisoning after the fact. He should have known better than to eat that custard tart, especially since he was well aware of that little bitch’s hobby of mixing sweets with arsenic and boric acid.

When Michael gestured towards the machete and then shrugged his shoulders in a questioning manner, Freddy just glared at him.

“I don’t speak ‘mute’,” Freddy grumbled as he pushed himself up off of the floor. “And I really don’t want to be speaking to you at all after what you did last night, you conniving little witch.” Freddy’s balls were still itching from whatever skin irritant Michael had sprinkled into the crotch of his pants. Normally, Freddy liked going commando because it made it easier for him to jerk off, but he was never going to do it again after Michael’s vengeful prank. “Hold on... This isn’t yours.” No, the machete definitely was not Michael’s. For one thing, Michael’s go-to weapon was a simple knife. For another, that filthy old blade was not something that a clean freak like Michael would keep in his possession. “Ahh,” Freddy said in realization. “You got it from momma’s boy, didn’t you? What’d you do? Have a falling out over whose momma is better? Did he try to gut you with it?”

Michael folded his arms over his chest and actually glowered at Freddy. Then he wrenched the blade out of the desk and vanished from the room.

“You expect me to follow you or something? _Fucking mute,_ ” Freddy swore as he followed Michael back to his bedroom. “Like I’m supposed to be a mind reader or something.” On most days, the young slasher acted very detached and mature, but he still had his moody moments. And it was those moody moments that Freddy had a serious problem putting up with. If Michael wanted to act out, he ought to find some parental figures to do it in front of because Freddy was no one’s daddy. Although... he couldn’t deny that the thought of disciplining Michael got him all hot and bothered.

The second floor of Slasher’s Delight consisted of three bedrooms, a storage closet, and a communal shower room. The largest bedroom - Freddy’s bedroom - had all the amenities, including a bathroom and shower. But that didn’t stop him from barging into the communal shower room whenever he had the urge to take a peek at Michael. He really didn’t care that his presence was unwanted and made the spooky slasher uncomfortable. Freddy lacked a conscience and therefore felt guilty about nothing. Heck, he didn’t even care that he was probably old enough to be Michael’s grandfather. Eye candy was eye candy. It was Michael’s own fault for looking good enough to eat. It was just a damn shame that Michael had a thing for that big dumb momma’s boy. While incredibly clever and dangerously unpredictable, Michael’s taste in men was deplorable. At least to Freddy.

“What’s your problem, Myers?” Freddy demanded to know when they reached the closed bedroom door at the end of the hall. Since Michael had celebrity status at the coffee shop, Freddy had given him the second largest room. The smallest room, which was situated between Freddy’s and Michael’s, was reserved for what Freddy liked to refer to as _‘conjugal visits_.’ “You invite me in here and I’m gonna take it the wrong way.” When Michael cocked his head to the side and glared bullets at him, but still went ahead and opened the door, Freddy laughed gleefully. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. You can’t blame me if my claws start to wander...” But he stopped laughing when he saw what was behind the door.

Nearly everything inside Michael’s room was in exactly the same place - and state - that Freddy had seen it in when he’d last snuck a peek inside. Unlike Freddy, Michael was a minimalist and only accumulated things that meant something to him, or that he absolutely needed. He had three pairs of coveralls that he regularly washed and hung up inside the closet. Anything he wore underneath, like t-shirts and underwear, were kept neatly folded inside the practically empty chest of drawers. Freddy had nearly lost one of his hands when Michael had caught him ‘playing’ with a pair of freshly washed black boxer briefs hanging out to dry. However, even after having his hand cut up on an insanely sharp knife, Freddy knew that he was just going to do it again if the opportunity presented itself. The only thing Michael’s violent retaliations accomplished was turning Freddy on even more.

Aside from the basic necessities that Michael kept neatly organized, there was a laptop computer - that Freddy had given Michael as a present for poisoning an unwanted customer - and a stack of textbooks. What Michael was studying was his own business. Freddy only picked up books when he was looking for something to burn.

“What the fuck is _he_ doing in your room?” In the corner of the otherwise predictable room sat the dumb momma’s boy. The big hulking jerk was sitting right on Michael’s nicely made bed by the window. No, he wasn’t only sitting there. He was sitting there shirtless.Now this was definitely something that Freddy had hoped he would never see. While Freddy knew that he would never win any awards in the beauty department with his own burnt and disfigured self, he still thought that he was not as bad looking as Jason. Who the hell wanted to make out with a dead man whose body - albeit awesomely masculine and muscular - was riddled with gaping wounds, missing pieces of flesh that the maggots had probably feasted on during Jason’s burial underground, and protruding bones? No wonder Michael had come to get Freddy. The poor kid was most likely traumatized beyond belief after being subjected to such a horror. “Way to go, you dumb fuck. You’ve gone and turned off your cute little sex kitten,” he sneered.

When Jason beckoned Michael over with one of his leathery hands, Freddy took the liberty of stepping between them. As much as he loved to tease and toy with Michael, the kid was still his responsibility. Slashers like Michael were the main reason Freddy had opened his coffee shop in the first place. When slashers were provided with a place of entertainment and refuge, they flourished and evolved into something much more lethal and powerful. And if they were kept at their best, they performed very well in the outside world. Healthy, happy slashers equaled more death and mayhem in the small towns and big cities. More death and mayhem led to more fear and eventually nightmares. And nightmares were Freddy’s realm of expertise, which is why he felt so strongly about empowering his fellow kinsmen in the first place. Michael, in particular, had great potential when it came to scaring people. What was worse than stabbing a handful of people on Halloween night? Poisoning half the town and taking out the rest with a single blade. Michael was nothing if not creative and goal oriented. That was why Freddy had originally taken a liking to the kid. It was also why he let Michael experiment in the kitchen, even though it meant that Freddy himself sometimes ended up being the test subject of some pretty horrible toxic concoctions.

“Look, momma’s boy, I only sent Michael to you that first day as a joke. I didn’t think that you’d actually go all to pieces over him. All this stalking has got to stop. He doesn’t want none of your crap, and he sure as hell doesn’t want you on his bed. I mean, c’mon, why the hell would he want to be fucked by Swamp Thing?” Maybe Freddy should have done something earlier on to get rid of Jason, but he had been too obsessed with milking the poor sap for all he had. After that first ‘date’, Jason had started to treat Michael to dinner every night, despite the fact that Freddy never charged Michael for any of his meals. How could he? The kid never had any money. And letting the big oaf shower Michael with presents had seemed completely harmless. But now Freddy wondered if he shouldn’t have told Michael to stop accepting weird shit like bouquets of dandelions and pet fish in bowls. How old was Jason anyhow - like six? People just didn’t go around giving men weeds and scrappy little minnows as presents.

All the wind left Freddy’s sails when Michael slipped around him to join Jason on the bed... on Jason’s lap. For someone who was not at all attracted to big dumb and ugly, Michael sure was giving mixed signals. Because nothing encouraged a stalker more than keeping a mini shrine of their bizarre presents on a small table beside one’s bed. The puny fish were still moving about in their tiny aquarium, and the dandelions were all fluffed up in front of it. And what the hell was Michael wearing on his wrist? Was that a friendship bracelet?! Is that what Jason did in his free time? Freddy could just picture the big idiot weaving that cheerful Halloween themed orange and black bracelet together for Michael to symbolize their one-month anniversary. Or something as equally lame.

“What the fuck is this?” Freddy demanded to know. “I appreciate voyeurism as much as the next person, but I’m not into whatever you two are selling.” Thankfully Jason had yet to take off his mask. Seeing the Crystal Lake killer’s face would have given Freddy a taste of his own medicine by fuelling a lifetime of nightmares.

Grunting in what might have been annoyance, Jason plucked the machete out of Michael’s hand and swung it in the direction of Freddy’s head. He stopped just short of decapitating Freddy, but Freddy engaged the blade with his claws just in case Jason decided to stab him to put on a show for Michael.

“Okay, you’ve got my attention. So what the hell do you want?” It was obvious that Freddy had been summoned on Jason’s command because Michael seemed to have no idea what was going on.

Lowering the blade in satisfaction, Jason took hold of Michael’s left hand in both of his. He looked meaningfully at the bracelet on Michael’s wrist and then up at Freddy.

“Huh?” Freddy had no clue what that was supposed to mean.

Again, Jason focused on the bracelet, this time tugging on it, and squeezed Michael’s hand tighter in his. _Oh. Oh fuck_! Jason couldn’t possibly be suggesting what it looked like he was suggesting, could he?

“No way! This is too sick, even for me. I want no part of it.” That was no friendship bracelet. Poor Michael might have been ignorant of the meaning of the handmade trinket Jason had given him, but Freddy was not. As a serial killer, Jason had no access to jewelry shops, so he wouldn’t have been able to buy Michael an engagement ring. But an engagement bracelet was dirt cheap and right at Jason’s skill level. Freddy prepared to leave, and abandon the two lovebirds to their own problem, but Jason nudged Michael off and thundered across the room. Blocking the door with that machete of his raised in warning, Jason jerked his head in Michael’s direction again. “You’re gonna destroy my business,” Freddy complained. “You take him off the market and who the hell am I gonna pimp in his place?”

Jason glared threateningly at Freddy in response.

“Fine. Whatever,” Freddy said sourly as he turned to Michael. “He’s just gonna say ‘no’ anyhow.” Rolling his eyes at how absurd the entire situation was, Freddy translated what Jason was having a hard time asking Michael with nonverbal gestures. “Momma’s boy is asking you to marry him. Which means that you’re gonna be screwed with him - oh, sorry, I mean _by_ him - for life. You say ‘yes’ and you can kiss your badass reputation goodbye. Everyone’ll see you as nothing but this walking corpse’s bitch if you let yourself become tied to him. Is that what you want for your future?” Freddy yelped when Jason whacked him on the head with the blunt side of his machete.

For a moment, it didn’t appear as if Michael was following the conversation very well. Perhaps he was stunned by Jason’s proposal. Or maybe he was put off by the fact that Freddy was the one proposing on Jason’s behalf. Because how screwed up was that? Whatever was causing the delayed response eventually seemed to resolve itself because Michael glanced over in Jason’s direction and nodded.

That was all it took to turn Jason into a juvenile school boy. Forgetting all about Freddy, he tossed his machete aside and strode back to the bed to take Michael into a crushing embrace. It was only then that Freddy noticed the zipper on Michael’s coveralls was several inches lower than it ought to be. What had those two been doing before Freddy had been called in to narrate?

“That’s just wonderful,” Freddy said sarcastically as he made his way back to the door. “Thanks for ruining my night. If you need me for anything else, I’ll be hanging myself from the front entrance.”

Unfortunately, Jason seemed to need Freddy for something else because he pointed one of those thick fingers at him and then aimed it at both himself and Michael. There was no misunderstanding what Jason was asking of him. Why had Freddy sent Michael over to Jason’s table on that first date? If he had targeted Danny instead, Michael would still be free and Ghostface would be dead. And Freddy would not have this bullshit to deal with.

“No.” Freddy said angrily. He had never liked Jason and he would do Michael no favors without expecting something in return. “No,” he repeated himself when Michael looked at him imploringly. “You know where the church is. Go get yourself a priest. I’m not marrying you two and that’s final. And I’m sure as hell not gonna host no sappy wedding ceremony in my respectable establishment. So you can both go fuck yourselves. My final answer is _NO_!”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Rating changed to Explicit**
> 
> Thanks to someone saying that 3 chapters wouldn’t be enough to finish this fic - you know who you are 😜 - I’ve extended it to 5.

This was _not_ how Michael had envisioned his wedding. Before Jason, he had given no thought to the subject of kissing, fondling or weddings. He had never wanted to be kissed - but now he could list at least three taboo places where Jason had lovingly kissed him. Thanks to Freddy, the thought of being fondled always made him feel queasy - except whenever Jason was freely groping him with those extra large hands of his. And he had mistakenly thought that weddings were only for Barbie and Ken types - until Jason had proposed to him. So yes, Michael did want to get married to Jason. If for no other reason then to make the kissing and fondling more socially acceptable and convenient. However, he was extremely displeased with the way the ‘ _happiest day of his life_ ’ was being handled.

Beer bottles as flower vases? Freddy.

Bulrushes in the ‘ _flower vases_ ’ lining the path leading up to the altar? Jason.

Shooters, French fries, beer nuts, and Vodka Jell-O shots as refreshments? Freddy.

Chopped tree stumps for guest chairs? Jason.

Overdue tab collection upon entry? Freddy.

‘ _With or Without You_ ’ by U2 playing in the background? Jason.

Michael rarely listened to music and knew next to nothing about it, but he was fairly certain that there was something sinister about that tempestuous composition. He doubted that the lyrics were as straightforward as Jason thought they were.

 _White. Why does it have to be white?_ Michael had tried to get away with wearing a black pair of coveralls on his special day, but Jason wouldn’t let him. Jason had implied that black was only for funerals and no bride of his was going to jinx their wedding with an unlucky color choice. Michael had two problems with that way of thinking. One - he was _not_ a bride. And two - there was nothing luckier than a black cat. Besides, he rather liked funerals. As many had mentioned in the past, he had somewhat of a talent for scouting out unusual funeral locations. He was also known for his creative decorating skills when it came to sprucing up the immediate area of the deceased. So why not turn their wedding into a funeral?

Unfortunately, Jason had taken offence to Michael’s suggestion. As luck would have it, Jason had already been dead and cursed to hell in a funeral of his own. Such an experience had put Jason off of funerals - permanently.

“What the fuck’s taking so long in there, princess?” Freddy hollered from outside the room. “You got cold feet or something? Cuz if you do, you only have to say the word and I’ll boot your eyesore of a groom out the door.”

Freddy would probably like nothing more than to see the whole happy event called off. Well, he could take his claws and shove them up his ass because Michael was _not_ going to call off the wedding - as distasteful and tacky as it was.

Turning away from the bedroom window that overlooked the area out back of the coffee shop, where the wedding was supposed to take place, Michael returned to the full length mirror that he had stolen from Freddy’s bedroom/office. He had washed his hands quite thoroughly after touching it because he wasn’t sure what the old pervert used it for. Or maybe it was because he knew exactly what Freddy used it for that he had also scrubbed under his nails and slathered a hand sanitizer all the way up to his wrists. That man was into kink that would make the most loyal of adult site users go blind.

Where had Freddy gotten such a sexually eye-catching white jumpsuit from? Michael was afraid to move around in it too much lest it pull tight around his ass or crotch. There was no room to spare and plenty to see. It was made of a silk mix fabric that was cool against his skin... and extra clingy. Although it came up to his neck in a high collar, it plunged back down to his chest in an open V shape that revealed far too much. Perhaps it had been designed to show off chest hair, but Michael had none of that so he didn’t see the point. And the buttons didn’t seem to serve any purpose because the top part could not be pulled closed. The leg bottoms flared out a little from the top of the knees and down, but the rest molded to his backside, hips and waist like the material had been pasted on. The sleeves had the exact same problem, with the addition of ruffled cuffs. And who knew why white pearls had been stitched up and down the sleeves.

Jason wanted him to walk down the aisle without his mask? In this get-up?! _Forget it!_

Michael scowled at his reflection in the mirror and pulled his mask down over his head. If Jason was expecting to get a kiss out of him after all this, he could forget it! As soon as they were done with the ceremony, Michael was going to burn his new sex-toy costume, kick Freddy in the balls, and slap Jason in the face. In that order. Except, no, Michael had too much class to be physically assaulting anyone. He would just have to settle for making Freddy sterile and depriving Jason of cuddles and kisses for a week. That ought to be adequate punishment for the shame that was Michael’s wedding outfit. Was Jason dressed as scandalously? Or had Freddy made him look ridiculous in an entirely different way?

“Hurry it up in there, bitch!” Freddy urged in a much more unpleasant tone. “I’ve already booked two ladies for nine, so you’d better be down the aisle and hitched by eight.”

Any woman who chose to lie with Freddy was definitely _not_ a lady. Michael had no desire to stick around and listen to the obscene noises that were going to be fill the ‘conjugal room’ later on that night, so he yanked open the door and breezed past Freddy with his head held high in the air.

“Holy fucking shit! Freddy Junior’s gonna erupt!” Freddy cackled excitedly. “It fits like a glove - like literally! Woudja check out that ass!”

This was one of those rare occasions where Michael wished he could speak so that he could tell Freddy to screw off. Sadly, the most he could do was force himself to get down the stairs with his dignity still intact.

There at the bottom of the stairs stood Jason. Except that Jason wasn’t standing so much as he was fidgeting like a bear with fleas. That was one of the things that Michael found most endearing about him - his contradicting personality traits. One minute Jason could be like a rampaging monster with a penchant for tearing people apart, and the next he was acting all clumsy and boyish. He bestowed Michael with the oddest of presents, chivalrously opened doors and pulled out chairs for him, and treated him like a prince. And not only did Michael find Jason’s personality incredibly charming, but the man was also impressively tall, muscular and full of testosterone. Jason made him feel loved and safe enough to let down his guard on occasion. Michael couldn’t have asked for a more perfect match.

However, as soon as Michael realized what Jason was wearing, he felt like stabbing him. Jason was dressed the same as always. He had on the same battered pair of boots, the same bloodied and muddy jeans, one of three similar looking shabby shirts, and his usual hockey mask. The only thing that was different was the new black tie he was wearing, which looked completely out of place when matched with everything else.

The instant that Jason glanced up and caught sight of Michael, he launched himself at the staircase. Michael was not given the opportunity to kick or stab anything because he suddenly found himself caught in a crushing embrace. Before he could react, Jason was eagerly sniffing at him and running both hands up and down his body. He pulled away for a moment to give Michael a surprised look with those piercing hazel eyes of his. Then those asymmetrical eyes were narrowing in mischievous delight as his hands cupped Michael’s ass and squeezed. Trust Jason to notice the first time Michael decided to go without underwear. Wearing underwear underneath had been more revealing than nothing at all. The provocative outfit he was wearing showed off the lines of anything he had tried to wear underneath. Not wearing underwear had solved the problem from the waist down. It was too bad that Michael hadn’t been able to figure out what to do about the way the material outlined his nipples. Perhaps nobody would notice...

 _Oh my...!_ Michael gasped and bit down on his lip when Jason cheekily pinched both nipples simultaneously and then rubbed them with his rough thumb pads. So much for nobody noticing. Thanks to that electric stimulation, Michael was sure that his nipples were now twice as hard - and visible - as before.

Wanting Jason to touch him more, but fearing how that might make him extra sensitive in other places, Michael shoved his fiancé away. But Jason was not accustomed to being refused. He simply squeezed Michael tighter and happily sniffed at him some more. Jason had a really acute sense of smell. One of his more bizarre skills was his ability to smell arousal from up to a half mile away. That was how he always ended up tracking down his hapless victims, no matter how secluded their lovemaking spot was. Was that what Jason was smelling now - Michael’s own arousal? If so, it was a scent that Jason had to be very familiar with considering how often he had his hands down Michael’s pants or his tongue in Michael’s mouth. Just about everything Jason did to him caused Michael to moan and pant with need. It also infuriated him because Jason had the sadistic habit of stopping right in the middle of things. As Michael understood it, Jason would not go all the way until they were married.

Momma Voorhees had been a sort of fanatical Christian while she’d been alive. Thanks to her own religious upbringing, she had regularly warned Jason of the dangers of premarital sex, perhaps to the point of brainwashing. If Jason didn’t want to go to hell, then he would have to get married before he engaged in intercourse. At least, that’s the way Freddy had explained it. Although Freddy had used a lot of derogatory terms and made an ass out of Jason during the entire explanation. According to Freddy, Jason’s definition of ‘virginity’ was seriously outdated. Using anything for penetration - fingers and tongue included - equaled a loss of virginity in Freddy’s eyes. Of course Michael had kept a stony face while listening to Freddy poke and pry in the attempt to figure out how far Jason had gotten with him. But he might not have been able to hide the disappointment in his eyes when he’d learned that he was no longer a virgin thanks to Jason’s thick - and beyond satisfying - fingers exploring where they didn’t belong.

Jason cupped Michael’s cheek and gave him a stern look. Then he held up his left hand and made a circle with his thumb and index finger. He used his thumb and every finger, except for his pinky, on his right hand to make an obscene appendage that he tried to jam into that makeshift hole. But he held the circle closed, preventing the appendage from entering it. _Still a virgin_ , Jason seemed to be conveying.

Oh, how wonderful. Jason’s manhood was going to be too big to fit. That’s the basic message that Michael got. But knowing that Jason could read him so well and soothe his troubled mind made him feel elated. It was so nice to finally have someone who understood him and cared for him. Being loved as well was an added bonus. Michael smiled behind his mask, allowing Jason to peel it up to uncover his mouth. Jason’s mask was pushed aside next to reveal the harsh grin on the man’s undead face. Then Jason was kissing him and Michael was melting.

 _Forget the ceremony. Let’s elope!_ Michael wanted to say.

Jason growled and kissed Michael harder. The powerful man often made loud animalistic noises whenever he was angry... or horny. So much for eloping. Jason wanted a real wedding and real guests to witness it. Michael would just have to get through the night without killing anyone.

 _Is that Jason’s —?!_ Michael looked up into Jason’s mask to see the man’s eyes smoulderingwith desire. The very hard bulge that was grinding into Michael’s hip could be nothing other than a very unsaintly erection. What would Momma Voorhees say? Michael wondered if there was something wrong with his judgment because he estimated Jason’s erection to be around 12 inches long. It couldn’t be that big, could it? Michael’s knife was a bit over 18 inches long from hilt to tip, with less than one-third of that belonging to the handle. That’s how he was able to easily measure Jason’s excited male organ - it was nearly the exact same length as Michael’s blade.

“Careful, Myers, the padding down below is really thin,” Freddy teased as he sauntered down the stairs.

Knowing exactly what Freddy was referring to, Michael pressed up against Jason to hide his own indecent reaction to Jason’s kisses and fondling. He couldn’t help it. Was it normal to crave something so large? The more Jason touched him, the more Michael _wanted_ him. Forget the fact that he lacked the experience to fully understand what it was that he wanted. All he knew was that he was going to own Jason as much as Jason owned him by the end of the night.


End file.
